


Committed

by Mypinkheadphones



Category: Twelfth Grade (or Whatever) (Web Series)
Genre: Drunkenness, I just wanted to write, M/M, Pet Names, Sharing a Bed, Wedding, and I did, atty loves proposial fluff aparently, maybe?? kind of??, part of the self care evening, this has no reason to exist, vi and oren get wasted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:46:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7765486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mypinkheadphones/pseuds/Mypinkheadphones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They sit in silence for a few moments. Drunk and disheveled, loose ties, loose lips, hair sticking up from the pressure and sweat. Thank god for weddings."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Committed

**Author's Note:**

> More dougecheek wedding fluff for no reason! (it's fine, it's fun.)
> 
> In which a youngin writes drunk people.
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> (alcohol tw)

“You're an idiot, it'll be fine!” Viola makes a dismissive motion with her hand and finishes off her third beer.

 

Oren sighs heavily. “But, what if it's not? What if he hates me forever, moves out, and takes the dogs with him? Viola, what then?!”

 

“You're being melodramatic.” Viola rests her face in her hands.

 

“I do work for a theater company, it's in my nature.” Oren takes her empty bottle and drops it in the recycling bin that she dragged from the other side of the venue to where they're sitting, so they wouldn't have to get up. It's full of beer bottles and empty wine coolers.

 

“You do their taxes!”

 

“Still!”

 

Viola sighs, and puts her hand on Oren's shoulder. “Buddy, you've been together for years, if Drew was going to ditch you, he would have done it long before you even thought about proposing.”

 

Oren looks up at her with puppy dog eyes. “But, what if he's not ready to be committed to me for life, or whatever?”

 

“Oren, this is the boy that spent your entire first date holding your hand. This is the boy that told you he loved you six weeks in because you went on a roller coaster and he thought he was going to die. This is the boy that somehow got you into the wedding party of a couple that you aren't very close to, just because he wanted to be paired with you down the aisle. This is the boy that fucking lives with you, and believe me, not as easy it looks...”

 

Oren scoffs, and Viola smiles.

 

“My point is, he loves you, and he's already committed to you and shit, so I'm sure he'd say yes.”

 

They sit in silence for a few moments. Drunk and disheveled, loose ties, loose lips, hair sticking up from the pressure and sweat. Thank god for weddings.

 

“Viola?” Oren pipes up.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“We should get back to the hotel, it's like almost eleven.” Oren yawns.

 

“Oren, it's two thirty.”

 

“Fuck.” He takes a sip of his bright pink wine cooler.

 

“Yeah.” Viola nods. “Where the fuck are our significant others?”

 

“Probably off making out somewhere.” Drew's cheerful joking voice is accompanied by Liv's laughter and the pair has never heard anything more beautiful in their lives.

 

“You wish.” Viola stands up and kisses her girlfriend on the cheek.

 

Liv looks down at the recycling bin sitting next to Oren's chair. “Thanks for the help with clean up.”

 

“Speaking of that, are you guys all done? Because, it's two am.” Oren says with a hopeful, tired smile.

 

Drew looks at Liv. “Should be, right?”

 

Liv smiles, wrapping her arm around Viola's waist. “Think so, all the rental chairs are in the van, and everything else is relatively clean, so we should be good!”

 

“Awesome.” Viola smiles and plants a soft kiss on Liv's fading, painted lips. “Let's go.”

 

They all pile into Drew's car and Liv drives, and they both sit upfront. Because, as Viola points out. “You guys are, like, fucking, grown up, fucking, adults, and that's like weird and shit, like, you stay after weddings to help clean up and shit, like, what the fuck.”

 

To which, Oren nods his head and promptly vomits out the half open car window.

 

Drew winces and remembers that he will be the one taking care of his boyfriend's inevitable massive hangover. Perfect.

 

They arrive at the motel room, and Drew is so happy that he booked a room with a door on the outside, because hauling a drunk Viola Messing and a Hammered Oren Douglas through the lobby might of actually killed him.

 

Drew unlocks the door and Viola immediately throws herself onto one of the two double beds in the room and passing out, nice suit and all.

 

Oren hangs on Drew for support walking into the room, almost knocking him down twice in the process.

 

“Drew?” Oren's weak voice calls.

 

“Yeah, Orey?” Drew gently places his boyfriend on the edge of Viola's newly claimed bed, as Liv makes her way into the bathroom, rolling her eyes.

 

“You love me, right?”

 

Oren normally asks these kinds of questions when he's drunk, but something about how serious he says it, causes Drew to pause momentarily before answering how he always does.

 

“To the moon and back.”

 

Oren smiles slightly. “What would you do if I wanted to, like, be next to you, or like at least kinda close by you forever?”

 

Drew laughs, his drunk boyfriend of five years is not so subtly implying that he maybe wants to get married.

 

“I'd say yes.”

 

“Nice.” Oren falls back onto the bed, and passes out, head resting on Viola's stomach, smile bigger than a rainbow.

 

Liv walks out of the bathroom, and lays her eyes on the drunken pile and singular empty bed.

 

“Rock, paper, scissors.”

 


End file.
